


Things Go Bump in the Night

by NightValeian



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightValeian/pseuds/NightValeian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"So, are we going to keep sitting here looking at each other or are you going to tell us why we're here?" </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Isn't it obvious? I have a case for the two of you."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The world was an incredibly dangerous place to live in. It was a world of violence and destruction; a world in which mankind itself was its own worst enemy. Every day, these people turned on one another, going from petty theft to full blown murder for reasons as small as looking at someone the wrong way. The world was a terrible place to live in and even though these problems plagued the world like a disease, they were only human problems. 

There are two halves to the world. One half is the human half with their mundane problems and their mundane lives. The second half is one of Darkness; one that is plagued by demons and spirits that linger in the shadows and prey upon innocent souls. These evil entities thrive on the suffering of the innocent; they torture, taunt and torment all who they deem to be deserving targets. If the evil ones had their way, the world itself would be destroyed...if not for the Supernatural Officially Non-Existent Headquarters or S.O.N.H. Yeah, they really needed to work on that name.

"So, are we going to keep sitting here looking at each other or are you going to tell us why we're here?" 

"Isn't it obvious? I have a case for the two of you."

Nick Fury was, if for lack of a better pun, infuriating. Director of S.O.N.H since the beginning of time with the special ability of making grown agents cry but also able to make children laugh because he looked like a pirate with his eye patch on. He lost his eye saving an entire unit from a demon attack and that's it, just an eye.

"Seriously? Can't someone else take it? We're on vacation." Clint complained.

"I thought you two were a better fit for this case than the others." Fury said simply.

"Do you even know when our last vacation was? I don't either, that's how bad we need one."

It has never been officially confirmed as to when the organization came into existence. Some say S.O.N.H was founded near the beginning of time, created to fight the Darkness that sought to find any type of purity and smother it until it no longer existed. Others say it was created as a joke, a club at some high school, and that one day it just turned into some big thing with a real purpose. But no one knew the truth and if Fury knew, he was not telling. 

Regardless of how it came to be, the organization was now officially one of the leading aggressive forces against the Darkness. And so many years after its founding, a special group was formed as a part of it; individuals who were blessed with particular gifts that when brought together had the potential to do significant damage to the opposing forces.

"I know and I'll owe you one, but vacation arguments aside, we need to bring you in." Fury said firmly.

"I can't even believe this. We're not the only members of this team, you know." Clint scoffed.

"Clint, hush." 

Clint Barton rolled his eyes in annoyance. As a member of the organization, it was his job to protect the human race from the dangers of the Darkness and save the lives of the innocents. but even he needed a break from it every now and then. 

"Don't tell me to 'hush', Nat. This is a serious complaint."

Natasha Romanov rolled her eyes as a form of response, imitating his previous action. Clint was her partner and he always had been her partner for as long as they had been in the organization; her partner in crime and her partner in everything else. They were hardly ever apart and knew one another like the back of their own hands. She was the logic, the head, the calm. Clint was the emotion, the heart, the storm. 

"How about you just give us the file and explain why you need us?" Natasha asked.

The file landed on the desk with a heavy sound. Clint reached out, flipping it open, and pulled out a few of the papers to look them over. His brow furrowed, a frown settled on his face, and Natasha wondered what he was seeing.

"This...thing is after kids. We're bringing you in because you'll need to communicate with them and Barton is the best we have when it comes to kids." Fury explained.

Natasha didn't even need to look at Clint to know that he had gone tense. Clint had a soft spot for kids, a weakness even, and no matter the circumstances, if there were children involved, Fury would drag them in.

She herself was never one for children; she didn't have the patience or the demeanor her partner had. Clint would get down on a child's level to speak to them, all smiles and bright eyes while speaking with the gentlest of tones. He could brighten the saddest child's day with one joke and make a frightened child fearless with a single promise. While she wasn't a fan of children, Natasha would be lying if she said seeing Clint interact with them wasn't one of her favorite parts of their job. 

"Explain."

"The demon wants to open a portal. Needs pure souls to open it and kids are the purest you can get."

"And what would this portal do exactly?"

"Flatten the city and release hundreds, if not thousands, of demonic energies into the world. All I need from you is to go out, find the bastard and send him straight back to Hell."

"How original. How many has the demon taken?"

"From what we know, at least four. If you take it, you'll need to start immediately--"

"We'll take it." Clint said, not allowing him to finish.

"Clint." Natasha protested. 

"Kids, Nat. We can't just let it target kids." Clint said, tone pleading.

They could, but Clint would never sit back for that to happen and Natasha knew that. They'd tried once, tried to let another team handle it and put another case on priority. It hadn't ended well to say the least; the guilt still woke Clint in the middle of the night covered in a cold sweat and requiring at least an hour of coaxing back into bed.

"Alright. We'll take it."

"But when this is all over, we still want our vacation." Clint added.

"Of course. In the file we have the information on the children taken, where they were taken from, and recent demon sightings in the area. It should help you."

"We'll find them and we'll take care of it, Nick." Natasha promised.

"Be sure that you do. We don't have much time."


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, everyone. 

In case some of you haven't noticed, but I'm sure a lot of you have, I have not updated in a while. This is due to the fact my laptop, the computer I use mostly for my writing, has broken. While I've been mostly working from a shared PC in my household lately, the feel for writing isn't the same when I'm downstairs around my parents as opposed to in the privacy of my bedroom and able to write freely without as many distractions. 

That being said, I'm getting a new laptop soon. The past few weeks have just been trying to find the best deal on the one I wanted so I could eventually go purchase one. Within the next week or two, I should be able to accomplish this purchase and get back to writing fics for all of you. 

I'm so sorry about the long wait and I'm sorry if you're a subscriber because you're going to be getting this notice a couple of times. 

I'll be back soon. Thank you for your patience.

-NightValeian


	3. The Boy on the Swing

"Nothing out of the ordinary here. Can't sense any demonic activity and all of the kids seem to be playing without a care in the world. Maybe they didn't see anything." Natasha suggested. 

They'd been scoping out the playground for the better part of an hour. Fury's intel had said this is where two of the children had been taken from, but the way the children naively played and the parents sat around minding their business, it was like children hadn't been taken at all. No police tape, no cops, nothing; this was all on their shoulders.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Clint said thoughtfully, eyes fixed on a white haired boy who had been sitting idle on the swings for the better part of an hour. "That kid hasn't moved since we got here."

"So?"

"So, when you're on the swings, you swing. You swing, see how far you can get into the air and get that flip flop feeling in your stomach when you come back down." Clint explained. "The swings are automatically a way to feel free, like you're flying, but this kid hasn't done anything."

"You think he saw something." Natasha stated. 

"I _know_ he saw something." Clint corrected.

Natasha sighed, staring at the boy on the swings for a moment. Clint would know; he was technically the child expert between the two of them. His gift was his sight, the ability to never miss and to see things that no one else was able to see, but sometimes, she could swear his gift was reading children.

"Then let's go and you can do your thing."

Clint approached the boy on the swings, Natasha in tow, being a bit cautious because he honestly didn't want to startle him. If he'd seen another child be taken, the poor kid was probably already terrified of strangers. The last thing he needed was for two strangers to approach him and demand to know if he'd seen another child get kidnapped. He stood next to the empty swing for a moment next to the boy and the boy said nothing to acknowledge him, so Clint decided to speak first.

"Hi. Can we swing next to you?" He asked.

The boy lifted his head, staring up at him with suspicious eyes before finally nodding silently. While he wanted to praise the child for being wary of strangers, his heart ached at seeing so much suspicion on his face.

"Thank you." Clint said, sitting down on the swing beside him. Natasha sat on the swing beside him and they rocked back and forth idly for a few moments. "You know, when I was your age, I used to pretend that I had wings when I was on the swings. When I got really high up in the air, I'd jump off and I'd feel like I was flying."

The boy didn't answer, but he did look at him again, a little interested by his choice of topic, Clint guessed, by the look on his face.

"These are very nice swings. I can see why you chose to swing on them. Do you come here a lot?" Clint tried again, wondering if he would ever get anything out of this boy or if he would simply continue to stare at him in silence.

"Mama says I shouldn't talk to strangers." The boy finally said.

"Oh, well, your mama is very right. You shouldn't talk to strangers." Clint agreed, digging in his jacket pocket for his badge. It was similar to a police badge, something he used to keep up appearances, only really carrying it around when he knew he'd be interacting with humans in their world. He held it out, showing it to the boy who focused on it curiously. "My name is Clint and this is my friend, Natasha. We're police officers."

"Police officers?" The boy asked, reaching out for the badge hesitantly. "Can I see?"

"Sure. Go ahead." Clint said, letting the boy take the badge from him and watched as small fingers traced over the shiny golden letters and designs.

"Clint is a funny name." The boy said after a moment and Clint couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, a little. Probably a lot funnier than yours."

"...My name is Pietro."

"Okay, it's a lot funnier than yours. It's very nice to meet you, Pietro. And look at that, we're not strangers anymore." Clint said cheerfully, giving the boy a genuine smile.

The boy, Pietro, smiled back, though it was small and hesitant, gripping the badge tightly in his hands. "I guess not."

"Now, Pietro, as police officers, it's our job to find bad guys and put them in jail, but you know that already, right?" Clint asked and the boy nodded. "But sometimes, police officers need help finding bad guys and we need help with one right now. Do you think you can help us?"

Pietro was quiet, offering only a small shrug of his shoulders before looking away from Clint again. Most kids jumped at the chance to help catch the bad guys, to be the hero,  he wondered why Pietro seemed so hesitant to.

"Did you see anything, Pietro?" He pressed. "Something scary?"

"The other police officers didn't believe me." Pietro said quietly, continuing to trace the designs on the badge, a frown on his face. "They thought I was making it up."

"No matter what you say, I promise I'll believe you." Clint said.  "And no matter how scared you feel, I promise I'm going to protect you."

Pietro hesitated, lifting his head to look around the playground before looking back at Clint. Pietro leaned over a little and Clint leaned over as well, making them a little closer as if the boy were telling him a secret. "The bad man took my sister." He whispered. "He pushed me down and grabbed her arm. I yelled for mama, but Wanda was gone."

Wanda Maximoff; that was one of the names in their files. The file hadn’t mentioned a brother and even if it had, the two siblings looked nothing alike. Wanda had brown hair as opposed to Pietro’s white hair, though if he looked at the boy in a certain light he could see light similarities in their facial structures.

Pietro said the police hadn’t believed him, but why? If he had seen his sister be taken, what about his story had made the human police not believe him?

Clint glanced at Natasha who seemed to be reading his mind, eyes narrowed and frown thoughtful.

“Pietro…The man who took Wanda…What did he look like?” Clint asked cautiously.

“He looked like a ghost.” Pietro told him, eyes wary. “His feet didn’t touch the ground and he wore all black. He had a hood on his head, so I couldn’t see his face. And when he took Wanda, they disappeared!”

“They disappeared?” Natasha echoed in surprise.

“Into nothing! The smoke just…rose up around them and they were gone.” Pietro explained.

Pietro’s lower lip trembled, tiny shoulders starting to shake with silent sobs.

“You don’t believe me either…” He sniffed, tone defeated.

Clint felt his heart break for this poor boy; he lost his sister and no one had believed him when he’d told them what happened. He reached out, placing his hand on top of the boy’s head as a means of comfort.

“Oh Pietro, we believe you.” He soothed. “We really do.”

Pietro shook his head, sniffing again miserably.

“It’s true. We really do believe you.” Clint repeated, wanting to stop those tears from falling but knowing there was nothing he could do but make promises and offer reassurance. “We’re the people they call when little kids vanish into thin air.”

Pietro wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand, sniffing, but seemed to believe Clint’s words because he finally met his eyes again.

“Will you find my sister?” Pietro asked hopefully. “I miss her. I want her to come home.”

“Of course. I promise we’re going to find her.” Clint said firmly, ignoring the warning look from Natasha.

They would be having a talk later, that was for sure.

“We’ll find her. Just be strong, Pietro, and be patient. We’re going to bring Wanda home.” Clint repeated, taking a card out of his pocket. It was a simple business card; it held his name and a phone number. “If you see that man again or notice anything else weird, I want you to call me, alright? We’ll come right over.”

Pietro handed Clint’s badge back over in favor of taking the card, staring at it for a long time before nodding. “Thank you, Mr. Clint.” He said with a small smile.

“Pietro!” Clint looked away from Pietro, fixing his gaze on a young woman as she approached the swing set. If her tired eyes and anxious tone told him anything, Clint would assume that this woman was Wanda and Pietro’s mother. “There you are. You shouldn’t wander off like that.”

“I’m sorry, mama. I wanted to swing.” Pietro said quietly, but he seemed to perk up a little, looking at Clint proudly. “But that’s okay because I made some friends.”

“You did?” His mother asked in surprise.

“Yeah! This is Clint and his friend Natasha!” Pietro exclaimed, pointing to the two of them when he said each of their names. “They’re police officers.”

“Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends, sweetheart?” Pietro’s mother asked, exhaling tiredly.

“They’re not imaginary, mama! They’re right here!” Pietro protested, looking to Clint, almost offended. “Why did she call you imaginary?”

Clint snorted. “Grown-ups can’t see or hear us us, kiddo. We’re invisible to them.” He told him and Pietro’s eyes went wide. “We’re that cool.”

“That is cool!” Pietro agreed, looking back at his mother before hopping off of his swing, holding out his hand for hers. “Don’t worry, mama. They’re going to find Wanda and bring her home. They believe me and they’re going to find her.”

“Oh, Pietro…” His mother sighed, taking his hand and starting to lead him off of the playground. “Of course they will.”

Clint watched them go, feeling sympathy for the mother more than anything. It must have been terribly hard to have a missing child who had a case with absolutely no leads. He respected her for even keeping it together at all.

“You shouldn’t have told him that. That we’d find her.” Natasha said suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts and immediately causing him to roll his eyes.

“Why wouldn't I say that? Of course we're going to find her.” Clint said with a frown.

“We’re going to try. It’s one thing to try, but if we find her, who knows if she’ll still be—“

“Don't.”

Natasha sighed heavily. “I don’t want it to be like Brooklyn, Clint. I don’t think you could take another hit like that. You still have nightmares about—“

“I said don’t.” Clint said firmly, standing up from his seat on the swing. “This isn’t going to be like Brooklyn.”

Natasha shook her head, standing up as well before moving to his side. “I just worry about you.” She told him quietly, placing her hand on his arm. “Believe it or not, it takes a really long time to break in a new partner and I’m not sure I’m ready to commit to the work.”

Clint laughed, patting her hand. “Gee, thanks.” He said, shaking his head. “Let’s go home and regroup. Maybe we’ll be able to put something together with what Pietro told us.”

“We should pick up something to eat on the way. We didn’t go shopping so the fridge is empty.” Natasha reminded him, walking with him away from the playground and back onto the streets of New York.

“Pizza?”

“How about we shake it up a little and get Chinese instead?” 

“That sounds like a great idea. We should order an extra helping this time. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* I'm back in action with a new computer, so let's get this story started up again. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are. I really hoped you enjoyed it because surprise, it's going to be multichaptered! 
> 
> I don't have all of the details fleshed out yet, so tags will probably be added over time as I figure it out, so keep an eye on those.
> 
> Come by and say hi!  
> I'm on [Tumblr!](http://boomerangarrows.tumblr.com)


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